New Faces
by NullNoMore
Summary: What do you do if you are defined by your purpose? What do you do if your purpose is complete? And why would a Prone ever order a drink with an umbrella in it? Not quite fluff, surprisingly canon. The whole grand world of Mira belongs to MONOLITH SOFT, where even the NPC's are spectacularly interesting.


**A/N: What do you do if you are defined by your purpose? What do you do if your purpose is complete? And why would a Prone ever order a drink with an umbrella in it?**

 **Set post game (very weak spoilers), alcohol, grabby idiots (briefly), and mild swears. More of this is actually in-game canon than you may realize, and all the good stuff certainly belongs to the geniuses of MONOLITH SOFT.**

* * *

"Hey baby, wanna dance?"

The female Prone, blue skinned as all of the Tree Clan, looked at the young BLADE with only passing interest. "I thought you humans preferred your music when dancing. I hear none."

"Baby, you an' me, we can make our own." He lurched into her and leered.

She stood straight and strong, and gave him a solid shove backwards. He'd have fallen if his buddies hadn't caught him. Sadly, they did not drag his embarrassing carcass away but rather pitched him back towards the woman.

She hadn't become more charmed by his presence in the intervening seconds. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "You are too puny to make music to suit a Prone. Go away and pester a Zaruboggan."

"C'mon, it'll be fun," he persisted, placing a fist on her shoulder. The Prone flicked his hand away but he didn't stop. It wasn't clear if he was grabbing at her lasciviously or merely because he was having a little trouble staying on his feet.

Didn't really matter to Wolf. He'd had enough of watching the boy make an ass of himself. He stepped around the Prone, and smacked his fellow human, but hard. This time, his buddies didn't catch him, stepping away in a bunch. The fallen BLADE rose up from the floor, wobbly but quick, and lunged at Wolf angrily. Then he realized who he was confronting.-

"Sir, uh, I wasn't doing nothing," he slurred.

"Get the hell out of here before I break something with your face." Wolf didn't even have to look menacing. He just had to breathe slowly.

The man and his friends vanished. As Wolf watched them go, he said, "Well, at least the others were smart enough not to be told directly."

"I do not need your protection." Her voice was husky, low even for a Prone. She must be older than he thought. He assessed her elegant outfit, and guessed he wasn't speaking to some untested girl.

"My apologies, ma'am. But I prefer to fix my own problems. He's one of ours, and he needed fixing. It was not intended as an insult to you." He nodded, almost a bow, and moved back towards the bar.

A wide space had formed around the two of them. Various other customers had suddenly found other tables to visit, other friends to chat with. A human-Prone fight was unusual at Rosemoss, generally a very polite establishment. A human-Prone-Wolf fight would have been unheard of, and nothing anyone wanted to be near. The bartender was already speaking to Wolf in a low voice, wondering politely if there was likely to be any more trouble and suggesting that if so, perhaps… Wolf shook his head, no, no interest in trouble, just another beer, please.

The Prone sighed, looked at the vacated bar stools, and moved to the one next to his. "It appears we are now friends," she said. "Either that, or there will be no space for other citizens."

"Suit yourself."

"It was good of you to act. I do not thank you for myself, but another might have needed such help."

"I appreciate your honesty. Thank you."

"And now we are truly friends. It is good." In opposition to her words, she sighed, and it was not a happy sigh. She was looking down at her drink, a rather fluffy and fruity looking concoction with several straws and a flower.

Wolf winced. "If you'll excuse me, I never thought of Prone as liking, well…" He waved at the drink.

"I did not know what it was. The name intrigued me."

"And it is…" he asked, dreading the anwer.

"Sex on the Beach."

"Ah."

"I thought it would be wild and gritty, not … this. It looks like snack for Orphe."

He struggled not to say a word, not to make an expression. And lost. He started laughing. When she turned to him and growled, hand on generous hip, he laughed harder. He pushed his beer to one side, and put his head down on the bar and laughed. He was going to die, he knew it, she had every right to kill him, but he couldn't stop. Well, he was tired, maybe it wasn't a bad thing, he thought sadly, and still he laughed.

Then he heard her laughing. Loud, almost a bark, and another growl, but without anger. He sat back up, still laughing. He smiled at her. Could she tell that was a smile? Hell, could another human recognize it as one, considering the way they usually looked at him? Her face looked about the same as Prone always looked to him, squirmy and blinking, but she rolled her shoulders and he could tell she was relaxed. Actually, her mouth tentacles were waving in a gentle way, not agitated. He hoped it was a smile.

"I am Duna Valdileo."

"Wolf."

"Ah, you are also named for fierce beast, yes?"

"Its a family name. I'm not sure why we're called it."

"I am named for the beast that consumed my grandfather's grandfather. It protected my clan for him. But, alas, it was not of this world. I am not sure if his spirit can still protect me."

"There are no wolves on Mira either."

"Except you."

"You need a better drink. Nothing against fruit, but…" He waved at the bartender.

"Ms. Duna wants a ..." He turned to the Prone. "I'm sorry, but I've got no clue what you people drink."

"I will have what he is having."

"That's an IPA," said the bartender, helpfully.

"Very good. I will have the IPA."

When the bartender had left, Wolf lowered his voice. "I call it beer, usually."

"I call it that too," she whispered back. "But I did not want to spurn her tutoring. She seemed proud."

Wolf had to give her another smile. They nodded to each other.

After taking a sip, and pronouncing it good, they settled into silence. After a moment, Duna spoke again. "I know of you. You train your fighters. You have even trained a Ma-non, correct?"

"Yeah, I'm that guy."

"No wonder those spoiled children feared you."

"I'll spoil them some more, next time I see them." And he would, no question. They'd learn to prefer taking on Heyreddin, the Territorial, before they'd harass anyone, male, femal, human or Prone, again.

"Surely it will not take much effort. A look from you must be enough to cause them terror."

"Yeah," he sighed. Funny. Someone he'd never met, an alien even, and she was talking about the last thing he wanted to discuss.

"You do not like your function?"

He snapped his head towards her. "No, not at all. What I do is vital. I'm trusted to shape future BLADEs, and I do a good job. I have to. Their lives depend on their training."

She nodded. Her skin was a darker blue than most Prone, with a smattering of freckles along her cleavage. Rather nice cleavage, in a modest blouse with golden ornaments. She was a class act, no question.

"But all is not right?"

"Do you nag everyone like this?"

Now it was her turn to sigh and turn away. He felt sorry, although he'd kept his tone light. Perhaps she didn't catch teasing. Perhaps he didn't either. "I'm sorry, I got no right to snap."

"It was my duty, to nag my siblings, to care for them after our mother was killed. But they are grown."

"There aren't that many new BLADEs either," he muttered grimly.

"But some. Even if now they are xenos. My brother is a man now, and stays strong for his wife and family. I cared for our grandfather, but he is a spirit now. His name protects my infant niece. My sister makes her own way, and does not need me. I am …" She didn't finish her sentence, but rather swallowed her beer quickly.

The silence was awkward, but not unkind. Wolf ran a few ideas through his mind, but nothing seemed right.

"I thought to find a mate," she said, suddenly.

"Er…" Wolf blinked in surprise, or maybe not. It seemed a logical thing for her to do, not that it was his business.

"It is important for our clan, to form families and raise children. But no Prone are right in my eyes. Too long have I waited, or too much do I ask. I have seen my grandfather and father and brother, and I will not take less than our mother took. But it makes me foolish. I even thought …"

This time, when she stopped and did not continue, the silence was not comfortable. Her shoulders were slumped, her head down. Wolf felt he had to say something. "I know we've only just met, but I have a hard time believing you'd be foolish."

"I thought perhaps…" her voice was hardly audible against the sound of the restaurant.

"Go on. Tell me. You've gone too far to stop."

She took a deep breath and sat up straight. Proud. Queenly, almost. "I thought perhaps a human would do. I am not the first to think so. But not any human. Only your Commander would suit, a man like great beast."

Despite previous indications to the contrary, it was a fact that Wolf could keep a straight face when needed. Iron hard, blank and flat like the edge of a knife. He did this now, because he wasn't sure if surprise or pity or sorrow were anything she'd like to see, assuming she could recognize those emotions on an alien face.

"That wouldn't work so well, I think," he said, gently.

"You are right."

"He's otherwise occupied, I've heard."

"I had not. That gives me some comfort. I only wish I had heard of it this morning."

"Oh." Blank face or no, he couldn't keep the dismay from his voice.

"Yes. When he came to visit the Ma-non ship today, I approached him and suggested … well, he was not responsive. Polite, but I believe I may even have frightened him."

"You'd think he could be diplomatic."

"He was stammering."

Wolf's blank face was rigid. "I'm sorry. He's a good commander, but he isn't always controlled."

The Prone sighed, and fluttered a hand. "He was kind. I am sick of kindness."

"I won't be kind then. But I will be…" he paused. What would he be? What would he say to a recruit in such a position? Yell at them to focus on what was important, knock off all that stupid romantic crap, remember that love wouldn't save their life in the face of an enemy, only a good weapon and the skills to use it. But this was exactly the enemy for this Prone. "I would be supportive."

"You can be generous. You do not have such problems."

He turned away. Again, exactly the thing he didn't want to talk about.

"Or perhaps I am wrong, as I have been about so many things."

Another awkward silence, hovering between comfort and strain. She spoke once more. "Thank you for your attention."

"You deserve no less, I'm sure." He didn't look towards her.

"But you did not rush to solve what I must solve myself. Thank you for that." She rose from her seat, patting her clothes into neatness. "I must return to the ship. I do not think I will leave it again. I am not sure why I left it tonight."

"Because you couldn't stand to look at the same faces."

"Perhaps. But they are the faces of my family. I will have to learn to accept my fate."

"I'm terrifying," he blurted. "My face, you said it yourself. I have to be, but it could change."

She sat back down on the bar stool, folding her hands in her lap and giving him her full attention. She didn't say a word, only gazed calmly at him with her six eyes. Her tentacles quivered only slightly.

He gave a ragged sigh. "We're artificial right now, you know that, right? Only temporarily, the organic redemption's going to happen any day now. But as mims, we can change our form, our faces." He waved his hand across his own face, indicating the scar, the hard lines of his skull pushing through his skin. "It isn't cheap, it isn't exactly legal, but we can do it. I know how, and where, and how much."

Wolf laughed, short and bitter. "Actually, there's a sale going on right now. Half off, trying to entice the last customers before we all go back into our real skins. I could change, be something I could never be."

He looked at the Prone, still calmly sitting there, examining him. He went on. "But I'm exactly what I must be, to do my job. I have Nagi's trust, because I can do it. But I also have enough credits to change myself, if only for a short while. To see how people look at me with a different face."

"It would make you happy?"

"I'm never going to know."

There was another pause. Wolf wondered at how noisy the restaurant still was, even though it was getting late and the tables were emptying out. Their end of the bar felt very quiet by comparison.

"You did not give advice, and I thanked you for that. I will betray you, however." She sighed and shrugged. "It is in my nature to nag at others."

She looked at him directly in the eyes, at a three to one ratio, which wasn't confusing as he'd expected. "You must change."

He grimaced. Even the alien agreed with him. He'd caught a subordinate calling him "Nutcracker" behind his back that morning. An otherwise friendly if timid young woman. It had been the last straw. He had counted his credits, had decided he'd go down at midnight and see if he could resist the devil that whispered to him with the promise of angels. Earlier, he'd thought he could stand up against it, but now he knew he wouldn't.

"But not your face."

Wolf snapped his head up. He hadn't realized he'd slumped. He looked at Duna with utter astonishment.

"You must change your place. Join the Ma-non ship."

He frowned, hurt by her words. It was a sharp, unexpected pain, but one that would grow, he knew it. "Amongst the freaks, I'd look normal," he thought. God bless him, he did not say that out loud.

Duna was still speaking. "You are a trainer and lacking in trainees. The Ma-non ship is new to you and in need. Not the Prone, although some of us might appreciate new ideas. Even the Wrothians are not too proud to ignore experience. I have no idea what you can make of Orphe or Zaruboggan, but there are some that would be willing to learn. It would be a new challenge. Frustrating, perhaps futile. But whatever you could accomplish would help all our peoples." She fell silent and looked at him, her head slightly tilted to one side.

Not a freak. A potential new resident. A welcome one. That is what she saw in front of her. Wolf heard a pounding noise, the blood rushing in his ears. She had suggested the maddest, most ridiculous action imaginable. One he was already determined to pursue.

"And there. I have done you the unkindness of pushing a solution where none was needed. You know your own self and will find your own way. I can tell, even if we have only just met."

As she stood once more, he rose to his feet as well. "Ms. Duna," he began.

"Yes, BLADE Wolf?" Her tone was formal, but not unfriendly.

"Would you like to have dinner with me? As a thank you for good advice?"

She gave a small, shocked quiver. Then she smiled at him. He was sure of it. Her shoulders were back, her head tilted up, although they were of the same height, and around her head, her tentacles rippled in waves. He smiled back, and escorted her over to the dining section of Rosemoss.

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 **A/N: I swore I had nothing more to say about Xenoblade. Nothing. I am chuffed beyond measure that it is not true. And now I have another OTP.**


End file.
